


Watercolored

by hopeandfire



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, Colors, Drama, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Misunderstood Affections, Multi, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Platonic Relationships, Platonic Soulmates, Slow Burn, Soulmates, Soulmates - Colors, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-20
Packaged: 2018-08-10 00:55:45
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,782
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7823917
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hopeandfire/pseuds/hopeandfire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“The world is full of colors, da’len. The greens of the trees, the blues of the sky, the red of your hair. Do you remember what they look like? Can you see them clearly? For most people, the world has become grey and dull. There’s no hope. No faith. No color. But there are some, a lucky few, who find a person that reminds them what it means to be alive. Those people, they are truly blessed. To have met someone who gives you hope when everything seems dark. If you find that person, hold on them. Promise me, Faranni…”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Watercolored

**Author's Note:**

> After a very long time suffering through a major writer's block, I'm happy to say that I've produced something that's worth posting. This is mostly a retelling of the events of Inquisition through the eyes of my Lavellan with an added twist. Everyone is born with the ability to see colors, but as they mature, this ability is lost. The only thing that brings colors back is meeting someone who shows you that the world is still worth living in - someone who fills you with childlike wonder. This focuses mostly on the Solavellan as well as a Cullen/Lavellan relationship, but has so major pulls from the more platonic friendships that are formed in the game. 
> 
> Thank you to TiniBopper and Aposted for being my betas. Also, this story was largely inspired by TiniBopper's When The World Was Grey, so you should go can check it out because it's super precious. <3

The last colors Faranni would remember seeing were green and blue and red. 

A glow of green as vibrant as the forest in spring. Crystal spikes of red as dark as blood set in a menacing face. Armor draped in soft blue fabric and chains of bright red magic. A flash of green eyes and horrible laughter. A woman in robes of red. An explosion? That was green too. A sickly sort of green. A horrible color she never wanted to see again. It was green and red and  _ hot _ . It was so hot. She was going to burn away. And then- 

The room that she woke up in was dark and painted in shades of grey. As Faranni squinted against the darkness in an attempt to train her eyes to the lack of light, she noticed a few key structures in the shadows around her. The room itself was made of a heavy stone that was worn by decades of use and there were small, open rooms dotting the walls. Cells? The heavy metal bars and enormous locks seemed to indicate some sort dungeon. She blinked again, moving to rub the fog from her eyes only to be stopped by something heavy restraining her hands. 

Shackles. How had she landed herself in a  _ shemlen  _ prison? 

Panic settled in along with dozens of questions. Had she and Sorrel been found at the Conclave? What would the templars do when they found out her companion was a mage? They were Dalish, and usually that meant they were exempt from Chantry law, but what if they weren’t? Images of Sorrel’s brilliant blue eyes empty and emotionless overwhelmed her and she suddenly found it quite difficult to breathe properly. All that Keeper Deshanna had asked her to do was keep the First safe and she’d  _ failed _ . 

What would the clan think? 

The door opened, but Faranni barely registered the sudden stream of light or the loud clanking of platemail. A trio of human soldiers, all wielding longswords and dressed in armor with holy symbols on the breast, surrounded her. The first two that had entered unsheathed their swords, taking careful aim at her fragile figure. They were going to kill her. Without even asking questions, they were going to  _ kill  _ her. She closed her eyes tightly, waiting for the blow, only to feel a comforting heat erupt from her left. 

The third soldier had bent down nearby. Faranni couldn’t see exactly what he was doing, but she could tell by the smell that he had lit a fire. She leaned back curiously, nearly tumbling backwards when she saw the flames. Bright streaks of white licked at the air. Fire back home had never looked so...colorless. 

Tears stung her eyes as a sudden feeling of loss settled deep in her chest, but before she could think about what the colorless fire meant, the door flung open again. Two women entered this time, both of them moving in a very official fashion. Faranni swung her head to look at them, noting that they too were painted in shades of grey and white and black. 

One of the women had leaned down, her breath hot against the tips of Faranni’s ears. “Tell me why we shouldn’t kill you  _ now _ ?” The  _ much  _ smaller elf tried to squirm away, but she found her shackles far more restrictive than she’d originally thought. Her vision was still blurred with tears as a primal need to fight back coursed through her body.

She didn't have time to waste. Sorrel had to be  _ somewhere _ . 

“There was another elf with me!” She cried, voice wild with desperation, “Where is he? You must have him somewhere. He’s got golden markings on his face! Please, just let me see him!” 

“Golden?” The angry woman hissed the word in Faranni’s ear, as if the very idea of color infuriated her. 

“So you don’t know?” The other woman, this one with an Orlesian accent, questioned. “What happened? What you  _ did _ ?” 

“What are you talking about-?” Faranni struggled against her restraints, gazing up at her captors with shimmering eyes. Surely, they would take pity on her. They had to understand the pain she was in, the fear she was suffering through. “Please, I need to see Sorrel.” 

“If he was-” The Orlesian one started, only to be cut off. 

“The Conclave was destroyed,” The news was delivered in a sharp, definitive statement. Faranni flinched away from the words like an animal from a butchering knife. Destroyed? Who would  _ do  _ such a thing? She’d opened her mouth to question the statement, to ask if anyone other than herself had survived, but was immediately answered. “ _ Everyone  _ who attended is dead. Everyone except  _ you _ .”

_ Dead _ .

Faranni bit back tears, forcing her eyes to focus instead on the lifeless fire to her right. The flames leapt up from the pit, bringing gentle warmth to everyone in the room. And the  _ colors  _ it must’ve painted. The lack of bright oranges and reds that were so familiar only made her chest tighten further. Everyone except her, dead? No, maybe they just hadn’t looked hard enough. An elf in the midst of dozens of important Chantry figures. But certainly the fact that her world had gone so grey so suddenly only confirmed their words. The woman who’d been doing the majority of the talking grabbed her arm and jerked it in the air, shouting something, but Faranni could only yelp in pain as a bright white light erupted from the palm of her hand. 

One more problem to process. 

This never would’ve happened if they hadn’t involved themselves in  _ shem  _ politics. 

“Explain yourself!” Without warning, the woman dove towards Faranni, angered by the silence that had permeated the room. The Orlesian at her side moved just as quickly, gently pulling her away. They exchanged looks, and when that didn’t seem to calm the mood, words were used. Faranni was needed for something, she registered, and the angry woman’s name was Cassandra. 

“Please…” Having given up hope, Faranni whispered the words again in a last attempt to gain sympathy. 

The still-nameless Orlesian woman moved towards her side, face unreadable but words soft. “Do you remember anything?” 

“A woman and a fire and a bright green light.” Faranni recounted, trying very hard to remember those last flashes of color she’d seen.  _ Red and green and- _ Another flash of pain shot through her arm, this one blinding even her memories. “A very green light. The woman was reaching out for me, but I don’t think I was going to make it to her in time. I must not’ve. I must’ve-” 

The other woman, whom Cassandra named as Leliana, moved forward this time. Her eyes seemed to water as she moved to ask - beg - for more information. In a surprisingly soft gesture, her companion took her by the arm and led her back towards the door. The two shared words so quiet that Faranni couldn’t hear them, and when they were done, Leliana left and Cassandra turned back to her. 

“What  _ did  _ happen?” Faranni barely managed to choke out the words as Cassandra bent down to unchain her from the ground. Despite the fact that the shackles remained in place, Faranni was happy to be able to move a bit more freely. She tried her hardest not to flinch away from Cassandra, who motioned for her to follow. 

“It would be easier for me to show you.”

Cassandra led her quickly and silently through the building, past glaring eyes and bowed heads. The walls were decorated with the same Chantry symbols and horrible banners as the Conclave, but somehow the lack of color made them more solemn to look at. Every now and then, Cassandra would glance back at her ward, to make sure she was still following or ensure she hadn’t fallen victim to her mark. After a short walk, they stepped out massive wooden doors into the sunlight. 

Here, the world was white. The ground was covered in snow and the bright light made the houses lighter shades of grey then the shadowy interior of the Chantry. Faranni squinted into the light, carefully taking note of her surroundings. The town was small, the lack of buildings denoting its size as well as the sparse number of people populating the small streets. She would’ve taken more time to consider the state of the village or perhaps the best escape route if not for the bright lights in the sky demanding attention. 

They were  _ not  _ from the sun. 

Over the mountains in the distance, a huge swirling vortex hung over where the Temple of Sacred Ashes used to stand, shooting out bright white streaks through a stormy sky. Cassandra stood a few steps before her, carefully explaining that this horrifying gash in the sky was a rift into the Fade. There were dozens of others, all caused by some kind of explosion - the one that had killed not only the Divine, but everyone attending the Conclave. The thought drew tears to Faranni’s eyes again, but Cassandra gave her no time to consider her circumstances, and neither would the Breach. 

The sky filled with light and the mark on her hand responded, sending spikes of pain from her palm all the way into her shoulder. The pain drove her to her knees and almost face first into the snow. She’d never wanted to be involved, but here she was with the mark to prove that she couldn’t escape. Green eyes turned up to Cassandra, and Faranni knew that she too saw nothing but monotone shades. The older woman knelt down, breathing out steadily, and explained. 

“Each time the breach expands, your mark spreads - and it  _ is  _ killing you. It may be the key to stopping all of this - even finding out what really happened - but there isn’t much time…” 

She was telling the truth, Faranni could see it in her eyes. There was no way Cassandra fully trusted her, but it was obvious that she valued the truth far more than jumping to conclusions, despite her previous attitude. This woman was just doing her  _ job, _ and wasn’t that all that Faranni had wanted to do herself? But what job did she have left, if there was no First for her to protect? What was she meant to do now? 

Whoever did this would no doubt try to hurt more people, she reminded herself, and when they tried she would be there to strike revenge against whoever had taken color from her world. 

“I understand.” She whispered, voice full of determination. 

“Then-?” Cassandra gazed at her, leaning back on her heels curiously. 

“I’ll do what I can. Whatever it takes to help.” 


End file.
